


Pressure Soothes

by Artersf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, One Shot, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artersf/pseuds/Artersf
Summary: It’s okay to cry. He can’t hurt you for it now.





	Pressure Soothes

“Are you alright?”

You don’t know what’s worse - feeling like you’re dying, curled up on the floor and unable to breathe, or the fact that now it’s happening in front of someone. It’s all you can do to wheeze out that you’re not okay. You don’t know how long you haven’t been okay, how long you’ve been here. It feels like forever, but in the back of your mind you know it’s not been too long.

“Dave - Dave, breathe.” You feel a presence by your side and a hand on your shoulder and you violently jerk away from it, covering your head with your arms. Your breaths get worse, deeper, louder.

“Dave,” Karkat says your name like a helpless plea and wrenches your arms away from your body. It feels like you’re going to physically fall apart and you want to yell at him for touching you, but you feel your scalp stinging from the divots your were scratching away into the skin and you say nothing. You’re not even sure if you could have yelled, as much as you want to.

He pins you onto your back and it does nothing to help your panic. You writhe slightly and struggle, there are hot tears streaming down your face, you feel like you’re choking on your own spit, and it’s all too much. You just know you’re minutes away from exploding into pieces when you feel the entirety of his body weight pressing you into the floor. For a split second, you go to panic even more, but he lets your hands go and, like a spring, you immediately clasp your arms around him. He doesn’t move, but you don’t feel threatened. You aren’t threatened. His head is on your chest and his arms are splayed out to the sides, his legs easily resting on yours and stretching out a good half foot longer.

“You have to breathe,” his voice rumbles from his abdomen to yours. Your erratic breathing makes your chest rise and fall at a much quicker pace, and when it doesn’t let up, he pushes himself up slightly and looks at you. Now he’s on his knees, straddling your chest. “Dave. Look at me. Breathe.”

You finally look at him, hardly aware you hadn’t been. There is no threat. There is no panic. He reaches down to cup your face with his hands, his thumbs pressing gently beneath your eyes, and somehow it’s soothing. Somehow, you breathe. You’re breathing, even if sobs are threatening to intervene.

In a quick movement, he sits next to you and practically scoops you into his arms. You cling onto him like a life raft, pressing your face into the dip of his collarbone beneath his shirt and letting your tears drench the fabric. Your sobs are muffled against him as he gently rocks you, a hand cradling your head protectively into him.

“I know,” he says, and the thick hurt in his voice makes your heart ache that much worse. “It’s alright. It’s okay to cry, Dave. He can’t hurt you for it now. You’re safe.”


End file.
